Bee Blues
by The.Dragon.Singer
Summary: He smiled, tilting his head in the way he'd seen puppies do in the Earth videos Sam watched. She regarded him with bored optics before shrugging and looking to the next bots. Bumblebee sagged. He'd totally just been ignored. He was cute, dammit! So why did she turn to the vain and overly cocky twins?
1. Chapter 1

Nightraid sighed, propping her chin on her servos as she stared blankly out of the Xanthium's front window. Her blue optics swept across the dull view before returning to the equally boring screen in front of her.

Being the bot in charge of communication sucked. Nothing ever _ever _happened. More often than not, Nightraid wandered around the large Autobot ship with one of the others on board, as they had nothing to do either.

Except the Wreckers, because they were driving the damned thing.

Nightraid's optics flickered upwards when the sound of someone stopping beside her registered to her audio receptors.

"You're looking a little bored, Nightraid. I'm getting some Energon; do you want to come?"

"Thanks, Moonracer." The dark purple femme stood, linking the communications screen with her processor just in case. It wasn't like she was going to need it, but Nightraid did it anyway. "I feel like I would've been in recharge before long."

Moonracer chuckled, stepping out of the cockpit and heading down the hall with the younger femme. The turquoise femme opened the door to their Energon storage, and stepped inside with the younger purple femme.

Their optics were met with the sight of Flareup, who was poking her cube of Energon with boredom.

"Hello." The red and orange female glanced up, sighing as she did.

"You got bored too?" Nightraid dropped onto the box next to her.

"Sunny-sitting is boring when he doesn't do anything." Flareup grumbled. "I'm so bored."

"He hasn't been going after Prowl?" Moonracer glanced up from her rummaging though the Mid-Grade.

"Nothing. He's been sitting in the corner of his berth-room." Flareup threw up her arms.

"Better Sunny-sitting than Communications Officer." Nightraid down the Energon passed to her quickly.

"I'll trade you." Flareup grinned, perking up as Nightraid's wings stiffened. Her optics dimmed momentarily before the purple femme was out of the storage room like a rocket. Moonracer and Flareup shared a look before bolting after her in their two-wheeled alt-forms.

"Move!" Nightraid screeched, pushing Prowl to the ground as she darted to her screen in the cockpit.

"Femme, stop yelling. We're concentrating." Leadfoot snapped, slowly sipping some High-Grade with his pedes propped onto the controls. Nightraid glared, nearly tackling her chair in order to get to her controls and her servos flew over the buttons.

Immediately, crackling filled the cockpit as the two other femmes appeared, transforming as they came to a halt.

"...united...history...future...together...Optimus Prime, and I send... message...past will always...remembered...memories...live on...we...here...waiting..."

"Blurr, I need these coordinates. NOW." Nightraid snapped to the blue mech nearly vibrating as he played a game on a data pad.

"SurethingNightraid. I' ." He frowned, spinning around in his chair as the coordinates locked on. "ItcameformasmallplanetinAlph aQ-seven-nine-threedesignationEarth. Doyouwantmetosetourcoursefor there? Huh,doyadoyadoya?!"

"Blurr, slow the frag down. Tell me the coordinates slowly. _SLOWLY_."

In a normal tone, the hyperactive mech repeated the coordinates. "Alpha Q-seven-nine-three, designation Earth."

"Optimus Prime? Do you think it's actually him?" Flareup frowned, shifting her weight.

"It's the best lead we have." Moonracer lowered herself into her own station, typing in the coordinates Blurr had spouted. Leadfoot and the Wreckers grumbled as they were forced to go back to work and take the ship off Autopilot.

"Oi! Ya nancy wankers!" Topspin shouted over the ship-wide comm. "If ya want ta aft and chassis intact, I suggest ya buckle up. We're openin' a space bridge."

Nightraid grinned, thoughts of her brother surfacing in her processor.

* * *

Mirage was bored. His servos tapped a rhythm on the desk set out for communications, where the Autobots could track both the Decepticons and any incoming new Autobots.

His optics tracked some of the squishies wandering around, some holding cans of what they designated 'soda'. To some it gave weird effects where their adrenaline was pumped up, and they called it a sugar-high, and acted like idiots.

One Major Lennox was doing such an activity right now with his friend and subordinate, Fig. The two of them were worse than Ironhide when he got into the High-Grade. Stumbling around with odd looks on their faces, yelling and throwing objects that weren't usually meant for being offensive weaponry. Then again, these squishies _were_ extremely unpredictable.

His attention was drawn away from the two sugar-high mechs to the static fuzzing on his console. It had been silent all day until now.

"_Oi! This the Xanthium! Ya hear me, ya nancy wankers! Respond, slag it._"

Mirage snorted, doubling over in silent laughter.

"_Shut up, Leadfoot! Nobot wants hear ya whinin'!_"

"_Both of you shut it before I beat you to the Pit with my cannons! I did it once and I'm not afraid to do it again! Get away from my station and back to the controls, you overgrown piles of rust! I would prefer not to crash land and dent my armor, thank you very much! Topspin..._"

There was a rather high yelp of pain and the feminine voice that had been scolding the obvious voices of the Wreckers returned.

"_Autobot Nightraid speaking. Can anybot hear me?_"

"Si! This is Autobot Mirage!" The red mech perked up, pressing the button to respond. "Coordinates?"

"_Approaching planet Earth._"

"Status report? How many bots on the Xanthium?"

"_Hold on a klik._"

There was a low muttering.

"_WOULD YOU FRAGGING HOLD STILL! I'M TRYING TO COUNT HERE! SUNNY, DON'T TOUCH PROWL'S WINGS!_"

Mirage fell to the floor in a bout of laughter, which drew the attention of passing Optimus Prime.

"Mirage...? Are you alright?" The Autobot commander asked, bending slightly to look down at the red mech. In response, he pointed to the screen and rolled over, banging the ground with his fists.

The two sugar-high mechs evacuated the area.

"_Thirteen bots, including myself._"

"This is Optimus Prime. Autobot Mirage...is having difficulties at this moment. May I ask who I am speaking to?"

"_Oh, hey Prime! It's Nightraid!_"

If Optimus was human, he would have paled as though he'd seen a ghost.

**::Ratchet...We have a problem::**

**::What now!? Did Sideswipe bust his plating again? I told him I'm not-::**

**::Nightraid.::**

Silence answered him.

"_Prime...? Prime...? OPTIMUS?_"

**::Is it too late to evacuate?::**

**::Unfortunately::**

"_OPTIMUS PRIME! ANSWER ME, FRAG IT!_"

"Sorry. I had to help Mirage and had my servos full." Prime chuckled nervously.

"_Ah. Sorry._"

"How long until you enter the atmosphere?"

"_Seven solar cycles...I think._"

"We will contact you again within four solar cycles. We have to get the Xanthium and it's occupants clearance to land."

"_Thanks, Prime. Tell Jazz I say hi."_

The static vanished and Optimus suddenly felt that he needed a _large_ cube of High-Grade.


	2. Chapter 2

**Orn is Two Weeks.**

**Vorn is roughly Eighty-Three years.**

* * *

Bumblebee rolled into the Autobot hanger on Diego Garcia, practically trembling with excitement. His doors popped open and his two human charges climbed out before stepping back and giving the scout enough room to transform.

He bounced on his pedes, watching with wide-blue optics as Sam and Mikaela strode away to visit their military friends here on base. Major Lennox waved as he escorted to two teens.

Bee looked around, noting where Ironhide was practising with his cannons and where Ratchet was having a loud conversation with Jolt. His door-wings twitched, bringing the locations of the Autobots on base, as well as several of the humans.

Bumblebee trotted out of the hanger and headed towards the rec room, excitement making his door-wings flutter a mile a minute.

He'd heard of the thirteen bots to arrive; Ultra Magnus, Bluestreak, Blurr, Wheeljack, Prowl, Sunstreaker, Leadfoot, Topspin, Roadbuster, Bulkhead, Moonracer, Flare-up, and a femme he'd never met, Nightraid.

Bee liked to meet new bots, and people, so he was particularly interested in meeting Nightraid.

The yellow scout paused before the door and gulped in an intake of air, a habit he'd picked up from Sam. The Camaro stepped in, looking around with wide optics.

He'd never _seen_ the rec room so busy.

"Are you guarding the door for a reason?" A femme asked behind him. Bee's jumped slightly, and flushed, turning.

"Sorry..." He muttered, using a particularly British radio clip.

"Hey! It's Bee!" Bluestreak grinned as Moonracer strode past, shaking her head. "Hiya, Bee! How are you!? I haven't seen you since I switched ships on Gamma-Twenty! How are you? Has Ratchet fixed your voice box yet? Can you talk? Not that I mind if you don't! I heard how you use radio clips! I think it's really cool! I wonder if I could do that too? I heard you have human-"

Bumblebee clapped a servo over his friend's mouth, though Bluestreak continued to mumble.

"Hiya!" Bee shook his head and removed his servo. "How are you, pardner?"

"The Xanthium is really boring!" Blue chirped, and he paused tilting his head. "Hatchet wants me for a check-up. See ya later, Bumblebee!"

Bumblebee waved and made his way into the rec room.

"Hey! Hey! Bumblebee! Come meet my twin!" Sideswipe yelled, waving his arms as he rocked back and forth on his wheels. Bumblebee trotted over, smiling.

"Bumblebee, this is Sunstreaker! Sunny, this is Bee!" Sideswipe grinned, crossing his arms to point at each mech with the opposite hand.

"Don't ever call me Sunny." The gold mech warned. Bumblebee nodded, and he turned as the twins focused on the rec room door.

"Hey! Nightraid! Come here! Bumblebee arrived!"

The tiny dark purple femme in the doorway raised an optic-ridge but strode over like she owned the place.

He smiled, tilting his head in the way he'd seen puppies do in the Earth videos Sam watched. She regarded him with bored optics before shrugging and looking to the twins. Bumblebee drooped. He'd totally just been ignored.

He was _cute_, dammit! So _why_ did she turn to the vain and overly cocky twins?

"Have either of you seen Ratchet or Prowl?" She crossed her arms, tilting her head back to look at them.

"Why do you need them when you have us?" Sunstreaker grinned. Nightraid shook her head.

"I need to see Ratchet for my scheduled check-up, and I need to discuss things with Prowl. When I'm done being responsible," The dark purple femme prodded Sides' chassis. She was nearly a two feet smaller than him, so she had to look up to Bee, Sides and Sunny. However, of all the femmes, she was the largest.

"Maybe I'll come _play_ with you."

The twins shared grins and they shooed her off.

"She's great!" Sunny purred.

"In berth, you mean?" Sides snickered, gliding out of the rec room with his brother on his heels.

Bumblebee stared after them, lost for words and shocked.

Had he _really _just been ignored completely!?

* * *

"-died in Mission City." Ratchet ground out. Nightraid paused by the Med-bay door, pedes silent against the ground. "My belief is that she was in emergency stasis at the time. That would be, along with distance, why she didn't feel it."

"How long should we keep it from her?" That was Optimus.

"Knowing Nightraid," Prowl spoke up, although what he was doing in the Med-Bay was beyond the femme. Poor Prowl was _terrified_ of needles. "She will find out that Jazz is missing, soon."

"Yes." Nightraid decided it was a good time to step into the Bay. She startled the Prime and the medic, though Prowl didn't so much as flinch. "Where is my twin?"

"Ratchet, I believe this is in your capable servos." Optimus gave a quick smile and strode as fast as his long legs could carry him out of the Med-Bay. "Prowl, I will need your assistance."

"Good cycle, Ratchet." Prowl nodded, but sped out equally as quick.

"Ratchet, _what_ is going on?" Nightraid growled, crossing her arms and glaring up at the medic. Even though she was a good bit shorter than himself, Ratchet flinched. An angry Nightraid was never a good thing, and with what he was about to tell her...Oh, Primus.

"Nightraid, I would strongly suggest you sit down." Ratchet frowned down at her, pointing to one of the medical berths. "Medic's orders."

"When have Ah eva' listen'd ta the medic?"

Ratchet cringed. Nightraid only ever talked like that when she was pissed off or feeling a certain emotion heavily, the complete opposite of her twin. Jazz's speech had always cleared up when he was serious.

Ratchet lifted an optic ridge and hauled her onto the berth, where she sat pouting.

The medic sighed, pulling his desk chair over to face her. He laced his fingers together and regarded her with a serious look.

How was he supposed to tell her that her twin was _dead?_

"Ah'm watin', Ratch." Nightraid's optics narrowed as she crossed her arms.

"I am not Prowl." Ratchet finally grumbled. "There isn't a logical way to say this. Nightraid, Jazz is dead."

Nightraid snorted. "No, he ain't."

"Listen to me." The bright yellow Hummer snapped. "Were you in emergency stasis anytime in the last ten orns?"

"Yeah. Ah was hit awful bad in a battle on Zeta-Pi-Nine. Wheeljack had ta patch me up, so Ah was in stasis a long time. Why?"

"Jazz died in Mission City, protecting the Allspark and buying us time, about four orns ago. While you were in emergency stasis, and had a large amount of distance between you."

"Ah don' believe ya, Ratchet."

"Can you feel him through your bond?"

Nightraid paused, optics dimming until they flashed a deep purple.

"Yes."

"What?"

"Where is he, Ratchet?!" Nightraid's accent vanished as she growled.

"But Jazz is-"

"_Click buzz whirr grind frag._"

Ratchet paled. "You mean all this time-?!"

"All this time what, Ratchet?" Nightraid cracked her finger joints. The medic bolted out the Med-Bay door, lights flashing.

Nightraid slid off the berth and followed at a lazy saunter. Wheeljack who was in the hall, giving the corridor Ratchet had vanished down a weird look, took one look at the femme and vanished into his berth room.

Moments later there was a message on the public communication link.

**::Wheeljack to Autobots. Avoid talking to Ratchet and stay out of Nightraid's way if you value your life.:: **

* * *

Jazz's optics were dark, offlined to save his energy. His systems were on low, his cooling fans broken, and he couldn't move his lower half.

The saboteur blamed Ratchet for that one. He'd only done a patch job, and the medic believed he was offline.

Everyone assumed that Ironhide had scanned his comrade for signs of life, only to get none. However, Jazz couldn't talk, he couldn't see, he couldn't move, and his comm link was so heavily damaged that he wondered if it would ever work again.

Jazz was a stubborn little slagger, and Primus dammit, he was going to hold on with both his servos and not let go.

Besides, he had to see his twin again.

How long had it been since he'd seen her? Vorns maybe? However long it was, Jazz didn't care so long as he got to see Nightraid before he died.

If he died.

Would he die?

No.

_Hold on with two servos, Jazz-mech. And don't let go._

Hold on a moment. Who was this who entered the room?

Ah, Ratchet was paying him a visit. About time the old fragger did. Maybe he'd see that Ironhide was wrong.

_Ratchet, oi! Ah'm still alive here._

But Jazz couldn't talk.

"Alive. How could he...? That's not possible. Damn your stubbornness, Jazz!"

"Don't you damn him."

"Gah! Nightraid!"

Nightraid was here? Jazz wanted to grin.

"Is he smiling?" Ratchet frowned, and Jazz sensed -barely- that someone was hovering above him. The silver bot twitched a finger, and felt for the sparkbond he had with his sister.

**/Heya, Night./ **

**/What the frag did you do, idiot? I come down from space and find you like this?! I thought I told you to take care of yourself!/ **

**/Ah did!/**

**/Then explain why you look like you were ripped in half. /**

**/Ah was./**

**/Who did it!? I'ma gonna rip that fragger apart!/**

**/Too late. Prime killed 'im. /**

**/Who did it?/**

**/Megatron/**

**/What were you going after Megatron for!?/**

**/To buy time. Tell Ratchet to stop doing whatever it is that he's doing. It hurts.../**

"Ratchet, stop. You're hurting him."

"He's talking to you!?"

"He's weak, but he's still alive, and Jazz."

**/Damn right!/**

There was silence from the other end of the bond and Jazz was aware of the faint tingling of a medical scan.

**/Jazz, did you know you're three inches shorter?/**

The wail was both external and internal, but was only so loud as a moan from his mouth. The bond however, made Nightraid clamp her servos over her audio receptors.

"What is it!?" Ratchet was hovering again. "Is he in pain!?"

"No. I told him he was three inches shorter."

"Well, that's what happens when you get ripped in half and have to get your abdominal plating overlapping." Ratchet snorted.


End file.
